


Red Carnations

by xpityx



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 20:04:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20141197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xpityx/pseuds/xpityx
Summary: There was an old wives’ tale that doctors’ soulmarks always appeared on a pulsepoint, as if that was the only place they touched other people.





	Red Carnations

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the excellent fitzier zine, [Captain and Commander](https://fitzier-zine.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I can be found on [Tumblr](https://xpityx.tumblr.com), but if you're just looking for writing updates then I use my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/xpityxfanfic) for those.

There was an old wives’ tale that doctors’ soulmarks always appeared on a pulsepoint, as if that was the only place they touched other people. Some romantically-minded people did pick professions where they were more likely to come into physical contact with people, chasing the chance that they would touch their soulmate and flowers would appear under their fingers and on their own skin. 

The Navy had optional gloves in the uniform, which suited Francis just fine. He had been aware from a young age that he found both men and women attractive, and did not wish to be the catalyst for the shame of perhaps awakening such an immoral desire in another. Rectors in their pulpits frothed at the mouth at this modern disease of same sex soulmates, but Francis privately thought that the Church had most likely been saying something similar since Jesus had walked the earth.

He remembered the disappointment he had felt when he had first touched Sophia - just a polite finger on the infinitely soft skin on the inside of her wrist. They had gone to bed anyway. He had proposed to her anyway. Though he couldn’t help but think that the definitive mark of a soulmate would perhaps have swayed Sir John. It wasn’t something he thought of anymore, except when he occasionally saw a flash of colour among his crew: Jopson, Thomas, Little, they all had reasonably prominent soulmarks, though after two years Francis barely noticed them. 

Mates and marks were possibly the thing furthest from his mind as he debated if he was well enough to be traipsing through the ice to James’ Carnival. He was damned if he was going to spend another day in bed, he eventually decided. Jopson fussed a great deal, lending him his arm as Francis changed into his slops. As he helped him out of his shirt, Jopson stopped speaking, his cheerful description of the planned festivities dissolving into nothing.

“What is it?” Francis asked, a little gruffly. At this point he thought that Jopson would be beyond any horror at the ravages the withdrawal had wrought on his body.

“You—you have a soulmark, Sir. On your lower back.”

Francis turned to him, the cold of the room forgotten.

“I do not,” he stated. 

Jopson licked his lips. “I will fetch you a mirror.” 

Francis stood in the middle of the Great Cabin, feeling more dazed than he had when he had first woken from his self-inflicted sickness. Jopson came back promptly with the glass he used to shave himself and sure enough, a swirl of red and white covered a point on his lower back. 

They both stared at it in silence.

“Speak nothing of it,” he ordered, pulling himself together. “We will go enjoy the Carnival, then you must make a list of all who had access to me while I was unwell.”

“Yes, Sir.” 

At least he could be guaranteed Jopson’s discretion, though Francis burned with shame that he had been privy to one more of Francis’ failings. He finished dressing, then gave into his first impulse.

“Thomas?”

“Yes, Sir?

“What were they?”

“They looked like carnations, Sir, red ones. And white lavender.” No hesitation, no sign of censure from the young man.

“Thank you,” Francis said, making a mental note to look up the meanings.

“Admiration and protection,” Jopson added, before slipping into the other room to return the mirror to its rightful place.

There was little room to think of such things in the aftermath of the Carnival. Just burials and his sad attempts to pull James out of his misery. 

A week later he retired to his rooms to find a list of names written in Jopson’s uncertain hand. He puzzled over it for a moment until he realised what it must be. Aside from Jopson, there was only one other name on the list.

❀

“James, you have been most kind these past few weeks, but I must ask one more favour of you.”

“Of course, Francis,” James said, passing him a cup of tea from the tray that John had brought in. “Though, I think you will find that it is you who has been kind.”

James seemed most unconcerned and Francis faltered, what if he was mistaken? What if some other had come into his rooms while he was insensate? Jopson’s earnest face rose in his mind. No, Jopson would not have made an error of this magnitude.

“Would you please take off your jacket?” 

James looked up, an eyebrow arched in humour.

“My jacket? Are you cold, Francis? You only need say - I have any number of mouldering blankets that you are welcome to.”

“Please, James.” 

James blinked, suddenly serious. “Yes, of course.” 

He stood and stripped off his jacket, then his shirt at Francis’ nod, turning what was meant to be an ironic twirl once he was stipped to the waist.

“Do—,” Francis stopped and cleared his throat. “Do you have a mirror?”

They eventually found one set into the lid of a great chest. James stared over his shoulder and, using the mirror as a guide, bought his hand up to touch the delicately wrought carnations and the wisps of white lavender. The twin of which Francis had been looking at for the last week.

Francis turned around and started to undress, not wanting to see the moment when James realised  _ how _ he knew that he had gotten his soulmark. Finally he was stripped to the waist. He stood, nipples peaking in the cold air, unable to face his Second, his Soulmate. 

He flinched at the first touch of James’ fingers over his lower back, then forced himself to hold still as James placed his hand more firmly over the mark.

“I helped Jopson to turn you and I must have… I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” 

Francis nodded, unable to find his voice. He couldn’t bear to see the disappointment in James’ eyes, to know that he did not measure up, not even to the one person he was destined to be with. 

“I know there is much we don’t know about other, but I am glad. Of this.” James’ voice seemed to gather strength as he spoke. “I know you have not thought much of me so far but you should know that I admire you and I—that is, I would like—” Francis felt James’ hair brush his bare shoulder as he stepped close. 

One more blow, if this was not what it seemed, then he could withstand one more blow.

Francis took a breath and turned around. 


End file.
